Unworthy
by Eady of Old
Summary: "What's stopping you, if you really want to know?" The voice of her hallucinated CO came to her like a whisper on the wind, and she realized that she did really want to know. Post-Grace


**A/N: This is my first Stargate fic published somewhere other than my harddrive, but not my first foray into fiction writing. This is just a little AU scene filler post-Grace. Any reviews are appreciated.**

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"Hey."

"Jack."

The sight of him next to her bed seemed so out of place, as though he was another hallucination conjured up by her injured brain. But Colonel O'Neill's startled reaction to the use of his first name confirmed that he was indeed real.

"Excuse me?" His eyes shot up in surprise, and Sam regretted the sentimentality that led to the slip.

"Sorry, sir," Sam amended.

He brushed off her use of his name with a reference to the concussion, his awkward phrasing confusing her as much as the look of disappointment she thought she saw in his eyes.

She asked how long she'd been on the ship by herself and was shocked to hear it was only four days. The head injury had left her so disoriented and out of it, and Sam suspected that despite being in the SGC infirmary, she was not entirely herself yet.

Jack said something about a party and a cake which made her smile. He always managed to make her laugh. It was one of the first things that attracted her to him, his sense of humor. Despite the anguish and hardships he'd experienced in his life, he was still loyal and dedicated and completely self-effacing. And he went out of his way to make her laugh.

_"What's stopping you, if you really want to know?"_

The voice of her hallucinated CO came to her like a whisper on the wind, and she realized that she did really want to know. Perhaps it was her still-foggy brain. Perhaps it was almost dying, yet again. And perhaps it was the way he was looking at her, his eyes so full of concern that she could imagine it might be more.

"Need anything?" Jack asked her, presenting the perfect opening.

"Actually... can I ask you something, sir?"

"Shoot."

Swallowing nervously, Sam fought against the pull of the pain medication as it tried to lure her to sleep.

"What if I quit the Air Force?" she asked.

His brow knit together in sudden concern. "Quit?" he demanded. "Why would you quit?"

She knew she had to be careful, had to take great pains in how she phrased her question. But a fog had taken up permanent residence in her brain and she was having trouble keeping track of where her dreams ended and where reality began.

"In the mirror universes, I was a civilian," Sam explained patiently. "And we were together."

His eyes widened in understanding, but Jack simply stared at her, momentarily speechless. They'd never really talked about it, the undercurrent of feelings which ran between them, even though she wanted to. Not after their time as Thera and Jonah, not after the zatarc testing, and not after the dozens of brushes with death they'd been through since then.

"I'm just wondering if it would make a difference," Sam went on.

Jack looked away for a moment as he composed himself. Finally, he said, "I would never ask that of you."

"Why not?"

Her question was honest, if not born of her mental confusion. What was so important about her career that it had to outweigh her happiness - their happiness? She could still provide value to the SGC as a scientist, perhaps even more than she did now as a member of SG-1.

"It's not worth your career, Carter," Jack said, his turn to be honest. She could see the pain in his eyes as he looked down at her.

Unworthy. He thought himself unworthy of sacrificing her career, her position on SG-1.

"What if I disagreed?" Sam asked.

His eyes dropped and she noticed his hands begin to fiddle with the threads of her blanket on the edge of the hospital bed. She waited through his silence, although she struggled to keep her eyes open and focused on him. If she fell asleep, this conversation would be lost, and she had to know.

He spoke quietly, his gaze focused on the blanket. "When I was married, I was a terrible husband. Gone all the time on missions I couldn't talk about. Even when I was there... Sara put up with me, but it was no day at the beach, let me tell you. And then with Charlie..."

He broke off, his voice dying in his throat as he blinked rapidly against his rising emotions. Suddenly, Sam hated herself for putting him through this discussion.

"Sir..." she began, but he continued.

"You deserve more, Carter."

She could not understand how he undervalued himself so. Was it his guilt over Charlie's death, she wondered, or was that just part of it? How could he not recognize what an amazing man he was? How everyone else at the SGC saw him?

"I would be lucky," she responded tiredly, and this time he must have noticed her struggle to stay awake.

"We shouldn't be talking about this now," he said softly. "Get some rest, Carter."

He reached out to pat her arm, but she twisted her hand and captured his fingers in hers. She wanted to tell him how she felt, that she was tired of the loneliness and the need to repress her emotions. But more importantly, she wanted him to know how she saw him - his selflessness and courage and all the other attributes that he exemplified.

Sam spoke quietly, almost a whisper, "You'd be worth it, sir."

Finally, the battle against drugged sleep was lost, her eyes fluttered closed, and her body relaxing in the process. Sam's fingers went slack in Jack's hand, but he did not move for some time. Instead, he continued to stand next to the bed and watch his second in command sleep.

After some time had passed, he could see Sam's eyes darting back and forth under her eyelids as she dreamed. Gently extracting his fingers from hers, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.


End file.
